


Unattached

by reillyblack



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Dom!Cas, M/M, Paddling, Pining!Cas, Power Play, Self Loathing!Dean, Spanking, Sub!Dean, Top!Cas, bdsm relationship, bottom!Dean, buttplug, hairpulling, orgasm denial (attempted), praise!kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:07:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1470940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reillyblack/pseuds/reillyblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off this prompt submitted to my tumblr: </p><p>After a one (or so) night stand a few years ago when they met at a bdsm club, Dean and Cas have an unspoken agreement; every summer when Dean comes to visit his kid brother at Stanford, he will come to Cas' apartment a few blocks down for a little fun. Except, 'a little fun' turns into complete sappiness, loving aftercare, and confessions - and "see you next summer" turns to "please never leave".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unattached

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, there are definitely similarities between my fill and Looking For Water... I think I must have written them in subconsciously because I love that fic. Cas is a physics graduate student and he spanks Dean. Honestly, I can't see Cas in any field other than physics and medicine, being a do-gooder, wavelength of celestial intent, so I don't feel too bad about putting him in physics in college :P.
> 
> EDIT: I have had a few requests for a timestamp, so I'll write one. If you have suggestions for what you'd like to see, leave a comment!

Castiel set his tea down on the stove when the knock came at his door. 

He approached the door cautiously. Castiel had been clear that he needed plenty of forewarning from all of his colleagues, especially that asshole Gabriel, before they came to his home.

He peered through the peephole and life seemed to still—  the perfect smattering of freckles, vibrant green eyes, short honey brown hair and an ass Castiel couldn’t forget if he tried: Dean Winchester. 

Castiel immediately opened the door, speechless as Dean turned and flashed a nervous, yet somehow still cocky, smile.

"I was worried for a second that you’d moved.  Should have known you’re far too much of a homebody for that." 

Castiel could only stare for several more moments.  He always convinced himself Dean couldn’t possibly be as beautiful and charming as he remembered. He was a pragmatist, and yet Dean seemed nothing less than holy in his eyes, which unnerved him to his core.  So he talked himself down off his cliff, argued that he was blinded by the moment, but no.  No, Dean was everything he remembered and somehow more.  

"Dean." He said simply, his voice coming out more breathy and awed than he had intended. "Come in." He stood to the side and watched Dean shove his hands further down his jean pockets and wander through the door, taking in his apartment with a soft smile on his lips. 

"Yup, still the same.  You sure are predictable, Cas."

"You enjoy it." Castiel said, eyes hungrily skating over Dean’s powerful shoulders and down to his narrow hips, the swell of his ass beneath his jeans.  

Dean turned, his expression softening with visible desire. 

"I do." 

Dean’s fingers played with his belt loops, his movements slightly jerky.  He was always like this, anxious and full of energy— until Castiel tamed him and silenced his fears. 

"How are you?" Castiel asked, genuinely curious. 

"Been good, good. Sammy’s killin’ it at school, so."  Dean bobbed his head, eyes still darting anxiously around Castiel’s small apartment which certainly had not changed since the last time he was here, he was right about that. 

"How are  _you_ , Dean?”  Castiel emphasized.  Dean’s eyes caught on his and suddenly that undeniable spark, the electricity between them that caught fire and burned hot and blinding all night long, ignited. It was as though the last few years were nothing, a second, a blink, and they were back in that club, staring each other down from opposite sides of the room for the first time.

"I need it, Cas." Dean said softly, kneeling where he stood, right in the middle of Castiel’s living room, and crossing his hands behind his back. "I… I need it."  He closed his eyes, his eyelashes trembling as he did so, and bent his head. The vulnerability in his voice sent a wave of pleasure through every molecule in his body.

"Tell me first,"  Castiel said softly, approaching the beautiful creature waiting for him, "tell me if you’ve been good for me."

"I—"  Dean’s voice caught and Castiel slipped a finger under his chin to tilt his face so he could see his expression. Smooth, glowing skin and a gentle yet strong jawline… and his lips… "I had a few one-night stands, but—"

"That’s irrelevant." Castiel dismissed such fears immediately. Dean’s eyes were magnetic and Castiel was drawn into them completely. "I don’t care about how you fulfill your sexual urges. Say it, Dean. I already know, but I need you to say it." 

Dean swallowed hard, his eyes fluttering closed again.  

"I’ve been good." He muttered softly, and Castiel felt a thrum of pleasure course through him again. 

"Yes." Castiel murmured, running his hand down Dean’s jawline and leaving him shivering. "Yes, you have." 

"Up." Castiel commanded, and Dean got to his feet but kept his wrists crossed and his head bowed. 

"Up, Dean." Castiel repeated, a little harder.  Dean tilted his face to meet Castiel’s, his eyes darting shyly between Castiel’s. "Do you have anything you’d like to start off with?"

Dean swallowed again.  Last time he was here, Dean had let slip that Castiel was the only person allowed to see him like this, allowed to tend to this particular _need_  of his, and as such he always came back to him after a year like a newborn dear struggling to stand. But there was never a need for nerves; Castiel would always take care of him. 

"Can you hit me?" Dean asked hesitantly, licking his lips before biting the lower lip. 

"Of course." Castiel soothed, closing the distance between them again and drawing a hand across his cheek tenderly. "Go get in position."  

Dean dropped his submissive pose and headed towards the bedroom.  Castiel wandered back to his tea, taking slow sips and imagining all the thing he wanted to do to that heavenly body, cataloguing and prioritizing.  Dean didn’t always have more than one night to give to Castiel, so Castiel needed to make sure he fit in the best of what he’d been imagining. 

It was warm outside, the insects chirping and the sun shining, but it was always this time of year that Dean was cold inside and he came to Castiel to warm him up. It had only been three years since that first time Dean returned to him, drunk and messy as he leaned against his door.  Castiel had made sure that would never happen again, soothing the pain from his lover by doling out punishment and praise. 

When he figured he’d given Dean sufficient time to strip and mentally prepare himself, he went to the bedroom, pausing at the door to admire the shine of Dean’s muscular back in the low light as he bent over on his hands and knees with his head down between his considerable biceps. 

"You’re going to tell me why you need this when we’re done."  Castiel said as he slid up on the bed next to Dean, trailing a hand over the smooth skin of his back.  

Dean made a gasping sound and a shiver ran through the bend of his back.  He was tense, his muscles tight against Castiel’s palm.

"Ok?"

Dean gasped again, but then a small, 

"Ok."

Castiel gazed at him for a moment.  

“I’m going to start.” 

Castiel brought his hand down with a smack. Dean cried out, a muffled sound of pain and pleasure. 

Castiel waited, rubbing soothing circles into the warming palm print on Dean’s ass. 

"… Green."  Dean huffed. Castiel immediately rewarded him with another slap, rubbing the reddening skin for several seconds again before continuing. 

Dean strained against the bed, pushing his ass up toward Castiel’s hand eagerly as Cas soothed the skin he’d abused.  Castiel built up a rhythm, varying his speed and intensity by the sounds Dean was emitting and the shaking in his thighs. 

Castiel leaned down and kissed, licking and touching and sighing a hum of contentment.  He listened to the little sobs and moans coming from Dean, and swatted him a few more times before a loud hiccup hit that switch inside of him that told him Dean had had enough. 

"You did well." Castiel whispered, pushing lightly and directing Dean onto his back. He noticed Dean wince as his ass hit the soft blankets of the bed, and felt pleased his sub had withstood enough to be that tender that quickly after a spanking.  Dean wiped at the tears in his eyes and stared at Castiel, watching his every move.  Castiel moved between Dean’s legs, lying so his head was just at Dean’s hips, pleased to find a very prominent erection waiting for him. 

"I’ve been thinking about this,"  Castiel wet his lips with his tongue, "all year."  Dean tilted his head back, taught with pleasure, as Castiel engulfed his warm, hard cock. Passion coiled deep in his stomach as he listened to Dean’s lovely sounds of pleasure, fondling his balls and pressing a curious finger to Dean’s hole.  Dean pressed back, and Castiel managed to get a dry finger in to the first knuckle before he drew it out and reached over Dean’s body to his bedside table for a bottle of lube and a condom. 

"I don’t want a finger, Cas."  Dean whispered, his watery eyes still watching Castiel closely, "I want you, all of you." 

"And you’ll get it," Castiel promised, "just as soon as I open you up." 

Dean spread for him, and Castiel felt his eyes never leave him as he pressed one finger, then two, and finally three into his tight heat, slicking and stretching his way.  Dean was art like this, his erection curling up on his stomach and twitching with every press Castiel could manage against his prostate. 

"You’re going to ride me."  Castiel instructed, sitting back on his heels.  Dean easily shifted to his knees and, almost shyly, climbed onto Castiel’s lap. Castiel settled his hands against Dean’s lower back and nuzzled at his shoulder, the wonderful scent of motor oil and fresh soap triggering memories Castiel had replayed over and over in his head. 

Dean sank onto Castiel with a grunt of pain.  Castiel stroked up and down his back, confused by the look of genuine discomfort on his face. 

"You need more prep?"  He asked, concerned. Dean shook his head, easing up and slowly settling back down.  

"It’s just… it’s been a year." Dean replied, his voice tight and his face contorted with concentration. 

"I thought you… you said you’d slept with others?"  Castiel groaned in pleasure as the tight press of Dean’s ass on his dick nearly short circuited his thoughts. 

"Girls."  Dean quirked a smile which shook into a wince on the down stroke. "Ain’t had anyone in the backdoor since the last time I was here."

"So this ass…"  Castiel grasped it firmly and Dean yelped in pain, "it’s all mine?"

Dean flushed, and Castiel felt a thrill at the silent answer. His Dean. He liked to think of him like that, even though he had no real claim on the flighty, unpredictable sub. More than his gorgeous body, what little he knew about Dean he loved.  He loved his responsiveness.  He loved the dorky jokes Dean made as they were lying in bed spent and talking about the past year they’d been without one another.  He loved the way Dean talked about his brother; it was clear he would give up his life for him and vice versa.  He loved that Dean was thoughtful enough to make him breakfast in bed before he left in the morning, and most of all he loved how when he kissed him, he felt Dean open up his vulnerabilities to him, let him touch things inside of him Castiel knew, somehow, he didn’t let anyone else touch.

Castiel pressed chest to chest and pushed Dean down into a low, dirty grind on his cock, wanting to feel every inch of his toned body against him.  He’d missed his body, fantasized about it nearly every time he touched himself.  The tiniest bit of pudge in his belly, from all those burgers and beers no doubt, and everything else was firm and tight and covered in perfect, speckled golden skin. 

Dean moaned, his mouth hanging open as he neared orgasm.  Castiel bit at his lip and pushed him even closer, wanting the feel of Dean’s cock rutting up against his stomach on every thrust. 

"Don’t come."  Castiel said, knowing how close Dean was.  Dean’s eyes flew open and Castiel watched the initial reaction of irritation slide into obedient passivity. 

"What a hardass." Dean muttered cheerfully, and Castiel smiled. 

"What did you just call me?"  Castiel demanded, almost playful as he fisted a hand in Dean’s hair and tugged back, exposing the line of his neck. 

"A hardass, sir." Dean was still smiling as he stared at the ceiling, but unfortunately the position made it impossible for him to keep up his pace and he slowed to a soft, teasing rock. 

"My cheeky boy," Castiel hummed, too amused to actually be angry, "I forgot how much you love to push buttons." Castiel mouthed at the delicious looking skin at Dean’s neck and enjoyed the shudder that ran through his body. 

"Cas…" Dean whined, his rocking growing more intense.  Castiel kept his grip on Dean’s hair firm, though, tugging ever so slightly on the roots.  Just a little bit of pain could drive Dean crazy. 

"I think I should punish you more." Cas smiled, nuzzling Dean’s collarbone and inhaling that wonderful scent.  "You have such a fondness for name calling your dom."

Dean grit his teeth and stilled.  Only when he was completely still did Castiel release his hair and let him meet his eyes. 

"Good boy." Castiel whispered, pushing up into him in reward.  Dean held his eyes as he rolled into the thrust, delicious moan in his throt.  He held his eyes as Castiel brought him to orgasm, as Castiel fell onto him and slammed into him until he shuddered in pleasure, taking everything Castiel could give.

He held his eyes as Castiel panted over him, sweaty and hot and completely blissed out over the power exchange, sweeping a hand through Castiel’s hair with a soft look. 

They played through the night, Castiel mentally checking off his list, amazed at how Dean exceeded his expectations.  He could never praise Dean enough.

They fell asleep early in the morning and tangled up in each other until the sun started to peak through Castiel’s window.  Sunday morning.  Castiel should probably finish writing the ten pages he’d set down to write at the beginning of the weekend. 

Castiel was startled into reality by Dean pulling his pants on on the side of the bed.  He watched the muscles in Dean’s back move as he covered them, woefully, with his t-shirt.  

His boy was leaving him again.  

An aching, powerful sadness started in his gut and worked it’s way through his body.  Castiel thought of another year of waiting, imagining, and remembering this one night… and he hated that idea. 

Oh god. 

Sam was graduating soon.  He would leave, and Dean would have no reason to return.  This might be the last time he ever saw him. 

"You promised me you’d tell me why you needed it so badly last night."  Castiel reminded him, his voice cracking with sleep.  

Dean froze, looking over his shoulder.  When their eyes made contact, it was magic.  Chemistry.  Undeniable, inexplicable chemistry. 

Dean looked off at the far wall, his eyes misting over with that horrible sadness Castiel recognized under nearly every word, every look. “My dad left for another hunting trip a few days ago.  Sam asked me to come visit but… when I saw him in the cafeteria, laughing with his friends, his girlfriend… I couldn’t go over there.  I don’t know why.  I just left and came here instead.  I told him I got stuck on the side of the road and that I’d see him in the morning.”  Dean shook his head, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know why.”   

Castiel sat up, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and wrapping his arm around Dean’s middle possessively.  He leaned his forehead against the curve of Dean’s shoulder.  Dean sat in silence with him for a few moments, neither one of them wanting to move or break contact but both knowing it was inevitable. 

"There are auto shops here in Paolo Alto."  Castiel said suddenly. "College students need their cars serviced as well." 

Dean looked at him, really looked, shock running through his features.  Castiel had a feeling a thousand things Dean wouldn’t say outloud were racing through his head. 

"You could live near your brother, I know how much you miss him."  Castiel continued, rubbing circles into Dean’s lower back. "I have a friend who needs someone to sublet his apartment.  It’s cheap, you could definitely afford it."

Dean was still silent, watching Castiel with such soft reverence that Castiel thought about tugging him down into the bed and refusing to let him up until he agreed.

"I could take care of you whenever you needed it from me."  Castiel whispered, knowing he was taking a huge risk and putting himself out there, so far he could fall and break something important if Dean didn’t save him. "Not how we are now, not all the time.  We could turn that on and off as needed. I— I would like to be more to you."

"You want that?" Dean asked, his voice molasses and gravel. 

"I do." Castiel nodded, never more tense than in that moment. He took a breath, hovering on the edge of indecision before plunging in, "I don’t want to wait another day for you, let alone another year."

"You’re a physics graduate student at Stanford University, Cas.”  Dean shook his head, “I’m a mechanic with a GED.” He shrugged, like that somehow adequately explained exactly why he looked abruptly dejected.

"You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,"  Castiel got up on his knees and earnestly pressed a kiss to Dean’s shoulder, then his cheek, and finally nibbled on his earlobe, "inside and out.  And I spend my days watching stars and what most would consider the wonders of the universe."

Dean eyed him doubtfully as Castiel rested his chin on his shoulder and circled both arms around him, feeling more and more desperate to touch him as it became more uncertain that he would stay.  He couldn’t say goodbye to him, though.  Not again.  Never again. 

He was all in or all out at this point, and he really didn’t want to go the route of all out. He would never fully recover if Dean Winchester chose to break his heart right now, in this room, as the sun peeked in from the window, of that he was sure.  He might even have to move to escape the memory, and Dean was right; he hated moving. 

"You really… you really want to try to do this?"  Dean asked.  Castiel loved the dip of his voice as it wavered in uncertainty.  He loved everything about Dean, if he was honest with himself. 

"I really do." Castiel said evenly, trying to put as much conviction into his words as he could muster. 

"No promises… but I’ll see if anyone’s hiring.  Can’t come up here if there’s no work."  Dean said, pressing a little closer, touching him in a way Castiel felt meant something different; something more. 

He leaned into it, needing it more than he’d realized. 

"The physics department always has openings for mechanics.  We have a lot of machines that get fucked up on a daily basis because we’re all airheads who will inevitably destroy the world by pressing the wrong button." Castiel smiled, he couldn’t help it.  That was pretty much a yes.  If he could get Dean a job, which he was fairly confident he could, then… Dean would be here.  In Palo Alto.  With him. 

He surged forward, claiming Dean’s lips in a kiss wrought with need and meaning and… and love.  He was in love.  He couldn’t say he wasn’t anymore— he’d thought about this man practically nonstop for years. 

"Stay."  Castiel whispered against his lips. "Stay with me a little longer."

"I’ll be back…  I should probably start looking for jobs if…  if you’re sure you’re serious…"  Dean muttered, kissing him distractedly in between sentences. 

"Just stay in bed with me for a little while."  Castiel said, trying not to sound as needy as he felt.  He wouldn’t have asked this of Dean before, but now…

But that was a lie.  They’d always been more, under the surface of this charade of one-nights and ‘unattached’ sex, since the first time their eyes connected in that club.  Castiel was lost then. 

"Ok."  Dean agreed as Castiel pulled him down into the sheets, tangling their legs and wrapping Dean up in his arms.  He huffed a laugh, his eyes shining as he shyly met Castiel’s in new way, a way that felt like the beginning of something. 


	2. Timestamp 1: How They Met

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'll write more timestamps for this story if people are interested. Leave a comment below with what you'd like to see. Big thanks to everyone who commented on this previously and inspired me to delve deeper :).

Cas wasn’t one for clubs, but he also wasn’t one for meeting people on the internet, and those were really his only two choices for finding a partner to match his particular interests. 

 

As far as BDSM clubs went, he supposed Citadel was a good place to come.  San Francisco was definitely one of his favorite cities – it had a good crowd for what he liked - and though he’d only been to a handful of other clubs there before, this was his preference of those.  Plus, it was always nice to be among other like-minded people. Despite these perks, Cas didn’t have high expectations for actually meeting a sub he wanted tonight. For one thing, he was terrible at talking to new people so it was difficult to form a connection on the spot, but he also had ridiculously high standards, almost famously so in the community. It had been… years, for him, since he’d found anyone steady, not since Meg moved away.

 

So he was at the bar, nursing a drink and watching a scene he wasn’t particularly fascinated by and considering making the long drive back home and calling the night a bust.

 

“Cas.”  Someone clapped him on the back and Castiel started.  He wasn’t particularly social in these circles, so his first instinct was who the fuck –

 

Victor sat down next to him at the bar, his massive, hairy thighs on full display tonight under black, shiny leather chaps.

 

“I never see you out and about, Cas. What’s up?” He grinned at him and held his hand up to the bartender for one of… something, Castiel didn’t know bars well enough to know bar shorthand.

 

“Just felt like a change of pace tonight.” Castiel shrugged, swirling his drink a little before downing a swallow that burnt its way down his throat.

 

“Not hiding in your lab, I see?”  
  
Castiel shook his head.

 

“Finished my research, somehow, early. Didn’t exactly go as planned so I’m…” Castiel looked around at the club, somewhat morosely as he felt even worse now watching what he didn’t have, “… celebrating.”

 

Victor touched his hat at him, his bright brown eyes sparkling at him mischievously as a sly smile slipped over his lips.

 

“Buck up, brother.  I’m about to change your shitty attitude.”

 

Castiel turned on the bar stool to give Victor his full attention, but unless the hairy bear was offering himself up – which, no thank you, even if the man was handsome he was not his type at all - Castiel wasn’t sure how he planned to accomplish that.

 

“How… exactly?”  Castiel couldn’t help but asking, his forehead twisted in confusion.

 

Victor leaned in, his grin splitting wider as he whispered to Castiel excitedly.

 

“I got this friend who recently found out about my past times, and he started askin’ all these questions about it. I always knew the guy was a big old masochist, but I didn’t really think, you know, _literally_.  Anyway, I promised I’d show him around, introduce him to a few friends. He’s really interested.”

 

Castiel was immediately skeptical, though his heart thumped painfully in his chest.

  
“And he’s gay?”  He asked quietly, swallowing down more burning ambrosia.

 

“Half gay.”  At which point Castiel squinted at him incredulously.  “He bats for both teams.”

 

Castiel “oh”d at that and turned to look at the bar, still not sure why Victor thought he’d be interested.

 

“That’s him, just walked in the door. Look, Cas.  I promise you, just look.”  Castiel arched an eyebrow at him, but he turned bodily to get a look at the door and –

 

 

No, that couldn’t be right.

 

“Is he – “

 

“Yep.  That’s him.”  Castiel didn’t have to look back at Victor to know he was grinning from ear to ear.

 

“Oh.” Castiel almost choked on his own tongue. The man being marked at the door as “over 21” was… he was gorgeous, beyond gorgeous, the most beautiful thing Castiel had ever seen - and he had spotted them.  He walked towards them, his ears a distinct shade of pink even from a distance. He stared determinedly in front of him, ignoring the moans and yelps of the people on display, looking past Castiel to Victor, until he wasn’t anymore, he was looking right at Castiel.  God, those eyes - that faint blush that colored his nose and cheeks as Castiel held his eyes. 

 

Castiel didn’t usually dress the part, as Victor loved to do, so he didn’t see Dean’s casual plaid shirt and jeans as anything unusual.  Though there were people in scene clothes, there were also a few like them in everyday clothes so hopefully he didn’t feel too out of place.

 

“Hey. Thought you were going to meet me outside the door?” And his voice was like sex, too, low and rough.  Castiel was already imaging what it would sound like in a moan as he cried out into the slap of his palm. Castiel willed himself to calm down because he still didn’t know anything about this man other than he wanted to throw him down on the bar and have him right this second based on his looks alone.

 

“I thought it’d be more hilarious to watch you try to find me in here.”  Henrickson grinned at him.

 

“You shithead,” Dean grumbled, ordering from the bartender in the same silent way Henricksen had. “There’s people tied to crosses, like, five feet away. There’s a fucking _cage_ over there,” he mumbled, but not before glancing at Castiel again. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he amended hastily, “just, you know, hell of an introduction.”

 

“Dean, this is Cas.  Cas, this is newbie.”  Henricksen gestured between them respectively. 

 

“Hey, man.” Dean was still blushing, and Castiel had to try to close his mouth before he was perceived as rude, if he hadn’t been already. He nodded rather than trying to find words.

 

“Cas here’s one of the sane ones, the good ones.” Henricksen clapped his arm approvingly. “You can trust Cas.”

 

Dean flushed again and his eyes darted shyly to Castiel before darting away to the bar and down to his drink, which he drank half of in one fell swig.  Castiel guessed he was nervous, especially when his finger started up a rhythmic tic on his glass.

 

“How do you two know each other?” Castiel asked quietly.

 

“Dean and I go way back.  His brother just moved up here for college, so he’s visiting. Told him I’d show him a good time, California style.”

 

“I fear you may be misrepresenting ‘California style’,” Castiel noted gravely.

 

“No.”  Dean shook his head abruptly.  “No, it’s… it’s good.  I’m, uh, very interested.” And his eyes darted back up to Castiel’s in a way that made Castiel’s stomach flop with nervous anticipation. Every green-eyed, tremulous glance from him caused the tight heat in Castiel’s stomach to coil tighter. 

 

Henricksen looked between them, his grin growing impossibly wider. “Cas is actually looking for a sub right now.”  

Cas blanched because, well, he usually worked up to that, he didn’t just spring it on someone, especially not someone as clearly new as Dean.  Dean’s cheeks flared, but his eyes connected with Castiel’s in a strangely intense way, flicking down over Castiel’s form quickly before looking away.

 

“That’s more of a… permanent state than a transient one, though, so no pressure at all,” Castiel tried to reassure him.

 

“Why is it permanent?”  Dean asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Castiel realized all too late that his response must have made him sound like he couldn’t keep anyone around, and he mentally slapped himself for his stupidity. Luckily Henricksen was there to pick up the pieces.

 

“It’s not for lack of offers or trouble with treating subs, he’s just famously picky,” Henricksen explained.  “My sub even asked him way back when.”

  
“And I maintain that I meant no disrespect in turning her down, it was just a compatability issue,” Castiel interjected on that old rub.  Henricksen rolled his eyes and Dean studied him carefully.

 

“And that ‘compatability issue’ turned out to be that she wasn’t a man,” Henricksen grinned at Dean, “which means you’re in luck. Speaking of, I see some friends of mine over there, so I’m gonna leave you two to get to know each other.”

 

Then that traitor abandoned them to each other.

 

“So,” Dean started as the stranger level of silence settled between them.  Cas was glad he was speaking first, because he had no idea what to say after an introduction like that. “How the hell does he get away with this? He’s a fucking cop.”

 

“Henricksen’s actually been a very helpful resource. People come to him when safewords are ignored, and he tags them for abuse. That’s how we’re friends; I’ve reported other doms to him once or twice so he could step in with the law on his side.” Castiel's skin prickled at Dean’s implication.  He paused, wondering how best to phrase his suspicion.  “What are you looking for here?” he asked, somewhat stiff.

 

Dean’s breath was a shudder, his eyes roving around the dark room to seek out the source of the whips and paddles and hands cracking against backs, the moans of pain and pleasure.

 

“I… don’t really know.  But I know I want to be here, if that counts for anything.”

 

It did.  Castiel might have dismissed him then, because he wasn’t really up for someone who didn’t know what they wanted, but at least Dean knew himself well enough to know he was interested in staying.  If Castiel was completely honest with himself, he could give him a little more time to adjust before he started making judgments because Dean looked like everything he’d ever wanted to put his hands on.  Plus, Henricksen vouched for him.

 

Beyond the physical, there was something about the shy, intense way Dean took in his surroundings that piqued Castiel’s interest.

 

“So, what do you do?” Dean asked, his eyes sticking on the man in the cage behind Castiel.

 

“I’m a physicist at Stanford. I start Graduate school this fall,” Castiel answered mostly out of reflex, caught up in watching Dean’s expression shift from startled to intrigued.

 

“Oh.” Dean immediately seemed to shut off, his eyes flicking away and his shoulders slumping, and he recognized the response immediately; he’d been getting that since he got into Stanford. “My brother’s starting as an undergrad this year, I’m here to move him up.  He’s really excited.”  He took a drink, staring down at the dark liquid in the beer can. “I’m just a mechanic, myself.” The way Dean stated his occupation like an afterthought he expected Cas to judge him over bothered Castiel.

 

“There’s dignity in every job. I worked at a gas station for years,” Castiel mused over his drink. 

 

Dean looked up, his eyes sparking with life again.

 

“Yeah, throughout high school I worked at a gas station because my family was very poor.  It was actually a good place to study.  I made everyone call me Steve because I was tired of explaining the origins of my name to most customers.” 

 

Dean’s lips twitched.  “No shit?”

 

“No shit,” Castiel agreed.

 

“You know I have to ask now, right?”

 

Castiel sighed dramatically, which only made Dean’s lips twitch into a real smile, before he replied, “It’s the Angel of Thursday. My parents were very into the bible.”

 

“An angel, in this place?”  Dean was almost incredulous, looking around again. “So you’re saying it’s cool that I’m dumb?”  Dean asked with a slight smile. 

 

Castiel stirred his drink.

 

“I don’t know that you’re dumb. A job doesn’t necessarily tell you that.”

 

When Dean didn’t answer, Castiel looked over to see that Dean was staring past him, his mouth slightly open, his eyebrows bent in confusion.  Castiel twisted, but there were any number of things going on in that general direction that could be the source of Dean’s interest.

 

“What?”  Castiel asked, amused.

 

“That man is _licking_ that… that lady’s shoes.”  Dean gaped, making as if to point but then realizing it was probably rude. It was an adorably awkward fuddle.

 

“Oh,” Castiel said simply, downing another swallow of drink.

 

“What is that?  Is there a name for that?”  Dean wondered hesitantly.

 

“That’s ‘boot worship’, and out in public like what they’re doing it’s a form of ‘humiliation’.”  Castiel glanced over his shoulder again.  The leather clad woman was now pressing the man’s head into the ground.  “I’m not a fan myself.”

 

“What are you a fan of?” Dean asked, the low timber of his voice sending shivers down Castiel’s spine.

 

“Praise.” Castiel looked over at Dean and, _yeah,_ he liked that; the bob of his adam’s apple, the slight lowering of his eyes were both good things in Castiel’s experience. His dick twitched just at the sight.

 

“That’s, uh… I think that might be…”

 

“You’re interested in that?” Castiel ventured, his voice quiet, as private as he could make it.

 

“Yeah.”  Dean nodded, and the slight tremble of his hands on his drink intrigued Castiel immediately.

 

“What else do you like, if you don’t mind me asking? What prompted you to ask Henricksen to show you around?”  Castiel asked carefully.

 

Dean glanced at him, then fixed his eyes on the dark bar in front of him.

 

“I like rough sex,” Dean admitted after a moment of thought.  “I like when a girl scratches me up, when she takes charge. I like being bitten, and when I get my hair pulled.  Uh, I don’t know if this really _counts_ , but one time… Rhonda Hurley, she made me wear her panties.  They were pink, and satiny, and… I kinda liked it.”

 

Dean had Castiel’s attention now. All pretty tame by his current standards, but they were the seeds of something real, something he could get on track with.

 

“So should I go find Henricksen, or stay here?” Dean asked, daring to raise his eyes to meet Castiel’s, holding them until Castiel answered,

 

“Do you want a different drink? I’d like to buy one for you.”

 

Dean relaxed somewhat, his shoulders loosening. Then he scooted over one more chair, and that heat in Castiel’s stomach coiled even tighter. He kept his hands to himself, though, because he wanted to let Dean come to him at his own pace.

 

“So I’m going to guess this is mostly sexual for you?” Castiel asked after Dean ordered from the bartender.  Dean furrowed his brow as he drank the last of his beer previous.

 

“Isn’t it for everyone?” he asked once he finished swallowing.  Mm, that was good.  Castiel didn't know what he would do if Dean asked him to work on him with no desire for sex between them, because just looking at Dean was almost enough to get him hard, nevermind actually domming for him and tapping into all his kinks. 

 

Castiel shook his head. 

 

“No.”

 

“That’s hard to imagine,” Dean said, his face wrinkling with confusion.

 

“Stick around for a bit,” Castiel chuckled. “You may start to understand.”

 

Dean smiled too,his eyes lingering.

 

“So, you go,” Dean challenged, turning on his stool to face Castiel more.  It left very little space between them.  Castiel was going to have to either move or face an unfortunately public erection (which, admittedly, no one would notice considering what else was going around them) if Dean didn’t stop closing the distance between them soon. Castiel could practically feel his body heat now he was so close, his knees bracketing Castiel’s body. “What do you like?”

 

Castiel smiled and took another drink.  “To be quite honest, I’m more dominant than sadistic, which is what it sounds like you’re looking for out of a partner, though I enjoy light sadism from time to time.  I have a few paddles and whips at home that I put to use. I enjoy bondage as well, and the power play that stems from it.”

 

Castiel heard more than he saw Dean’s swallow at his words.  He couldn’t help but let his eyes flick down Dean’s close form briefly, thinking of what Dean might be like out of those clothes. Dean gripped his bottle hard, water droplets from the warming surface dripping onto his fingers.

 

“You doing anything tonight?”

 

Castiel paused in bringing his drink to his lips, and when he turned to face Dean the sub was closer than before. There was no mistaking them as platonic from a distance anymore. Dean’s hand settled onto his knee carefully, lightly so Cas could pull away if the move was unwanted.

 

Castiel was hard to ruffle, but Dean had ruffled him. He could smell the sweet, musky combination of motor oil and shampoo from Dean, could see the bulge of his biceps through his long plaid shirt.  More than that, there was something… _something_ he liked, inexplicably, about Dean and his timid, sweet way of entering this world.

 

“I’ve got two nights in town, then I’ll be out of your hair.” Castiel’s eyes got caught on Dean’s full, gorgeous lips as he spoke, his heart stuttering in his chest at Dean’s words. “I want to know what it’s like.” His voice was soft, and Castiel almost didn’t hear him over the din of the club, but it was enough to send a thrill of excitement through him. 

 

Castiel tipped his head to answer, but Dean’s hand was sliding farther up his thigh, approaching his hip or his groin, Castiel wasn’t sure which yet.  Castiel’s voice was lost in the feel of Dean’s slow, methodical journey.

 

“I want to know what _you’re_ like.”

 

Castiel closed his eyes as Dean’s hand stopped high up on thigh.   


	3. Timestamp: How They Met Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel takes Dean back to his home and introduces him to BDSM for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even I couldn't leave the last timestamp at that. Still taking requests for timestamps, this was a "firsts" request. Drop an idea in the comments if you have one! Also, I always appreciate hearing your thoughts.

Castiel was half convinced he was dreaming as he let Dean into his apartment.  The drive back had been quiet, his mind spinning as he planned the night out. Dean drove his own car, following behind. He and Dean had talked a bit about what Dean wanted out of the night at the bar, but the energy between them built until Dean insisted they go somewhere more private to talk. Castiel still wasn’t sure how much talking they were going to get done in private, but he’d agreed, mostly because he had a rule of no hard touching until ground rules were laid out and agreed upon. If nothing else, he trusted himself to keep that code.

 

Dean confirmed his suspicions the moment they were inside when he snaked his hands around Cas’s hips and turned him for a kiss, breathy and slow. Castiel jumped in surprise, and closed his eyes to enjoy it until Dean drew back, his breathing already coming in shallow pants.

 

Cas had him by the shoulder the moment he pulled away, backing him up against the wall of his entryway.

 

Dean hit the wall easy enough that Castiel knew he didn’t hurt him, but hard enough that shock and lust sparked through his expression.   Castiel almost laughed, because... _masochists_.  Even when he didn't mean to turn them on, they were on.  

 

“So.”  Castiel’s voice was low and even, though the heat in his stomach was roiling after that gentle kiss. “Starting now, you need permission before you do that. I don’t like surprises.”

 

Dean swallowed as Castiel released him, rubbing at his shoulder where Castiel had grabbed him.

 

“Understood?”  Castiel asked, his tone hardening.  Dean shivered in front of him, his eyes darting up to Castiel’s before they rested down at his shoes.  Castiel watched the struggle in him, and he got the sense that Dean didn’t take orders from anyone under normal circumstances.

“Yes.”

 

“Yes, sir.”  Castiel corrected, his expression blank.  Dean glanced at him again, and his jaw clenched in defiance before he answered,

 

“Yes… sir.”

 

“Come sit down on the couch.  Would you like something to drink?” Castiel moved to put distance between them.

 

“I’ll have another beer.” Dean answered, distracted as he looked around Castiel’s apartment.  Castiel liked to keep his house clean, if a little cluttered, so he wasn’t embarrassed by Dean’s curiosity.  The living room was a nice combination of dark brown and blue tones. 

 

“Something non-alcoholic.  I don’t want you drunk when we scene, and you’re already buzzed, which isn't ideal.”  Castiel stopped at his kitchen, his hand on the refrigerator door.  “I have cranberry juice, water and milk.”

 

“Juice.”  Dean said quietly, his eyes dark and unreadable.

 

“You want to try paddling,” Castiel started as he poured a cup of juice for Dean and one for himself, “and you said you wanted to use a butt plug and play with orgasm denial.”

Dean gaped at him a little, and Castiel realized his business-like tone was probably a little difficult to adjust to after the hushed, intimate tones they’d used at the club.

 

“After I spank you, I assume you want this to end with sex, but I want to be clear that it doesn’t need to.” Castiel carried their juice over to the couch and set both glasses down on coasters on the burnt sienna wood table. Dean immediately took a sip of his and held the glass in his lap. 

 

“Yes.”  Dean said, his eyes roving over Castiel in that distinctly sexual way they had at the bar.  Castiel pushed down the sudden desire to skip this part and just jump right into the good stuff, but no, there was no skipping this talk, ever.

 

“We can use standard safewords. Green is go, yellow is warning, and red is stop immediately.  You should never have to use red, we should have clearly laid-out guidelines that prevent you from becoming that uncomfortable. If you ever have someone ignore safewords, you leave and never look back, and you report them to Henricksen. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes.”

Castiel waited.

 

“Sir,” Dean finished, and his lips twitched up at that.  Castiel could see he found it almost funny that Castiel asked him to call him ‘sir’, and he had to admit it thrilled him a little to see the sub had fight in him.

 

“Repeat to me the safewords.”

 

“Green is go, yellow is warning, and red is quit it.” Dean answered immediately.

 

“Once more.”

  
  
Dean repeated it back to him, a little more monotonously this time.

 

“No matter what we’re doing, I will always respect these.  You’re free to say whatever else you feel like, but these are what I’ll respond to without question.”

 

Dean nodded, and Castiel was happy to see his sharp attention focused on him.

 

“You can back out at any time. I understand that you’re new to this, so we’ll go slow tonight.”

 

“Not too slow.”  Dean smiled.  “I get the sense that you want to baby me, but I can tell you… I want this.”

 

Castiel couldn’t contain himself anymore.  He reached between them and tilted Dean’s chin, leaning in to press a firm kiss to Dean’s full mouth. Dean pressed into it, one hand fluttering up to grab at Castiel’s forearm while the other came to rest on his thigh.

 

“So you’re clear on how tonight’s going to proceed?  I’m not going to do anything other than what we’ve discussed.”  Castiel's quiet voice seemed to fill the whole room.

  
“Yes, sir,” Dean replied, this time without any trace of humor. His hands fiddled on his glass before he said, “Can I ask – is there any spontaneity in this?  I didn’t realize it was so planning-heavy.”

 

“There’s little room for spontaneity when we’re not in a steady relationship.  That’s why people enjoy permanent dom/sub relationships, among other more obvious reasons. Limits are very important with sadism, Dean.  Please don’t ever get involved with someone who thinks otherwise.”

 

Dean glanced between Castiel’s eyes, his expression softening.

 

“I won’t.”

 

“Good.  Now go get undressed in the bedroom - second door on the right down that hall - and fold your clothes by the bed.  Sit on the bed and wait for me.”

 

Dean leaned in again before he stopped himself, inches away from Castiel, and asked, “permission to kiss you, sir?” with a shit-eating grin that Castiel decided he adored.  Castiel pressed another kiss to Dean’s lips to satisfy him.

 

“Granted.”  He said after the fact.  “Now go.”

 

Dean went.  Castiel downed the rest of his juice and carried Dean’s with him to the bathroom. He rummaged around in the drawers until he found the lube he wanted, condoms, and a clean buttplug. Then he looked through his small paddle selection in the box in the closet until he found the one he was looking for – Dean was right, he was babying him somewhat in his new state. This paddle was better for light spankings, flexible wood that sounded brutal but bent when it counted.

 

He cleaned up in his kitchen for a few minutes to give Dean time to settle himself, washing stray dishes and wiping down the counter.  He tossed a pack of hand wipes in the bag for lube clean up. 

 

When at least five minutes had passed, Castiel gathered the bag of goodies and walked to the bedroom.  He paused at the door, at Dean’s uncomfortable shift in his nudity. He was just as beautiful as Castiel had imagined he would be, freckles dotting his shoulders and chest, both of which were tight with muscle but not overly-defined.  He sat perched on the edge of Castiel’s carefully made bed, clothes folded at the foot just as Castiel asked.  A thrill of excitement shot through him as he calmed his mind in preparation.  

 

“Stand at the foot, put your hands on the railing.” Castiel ordered softly.  Dean stood and carefully arranged himself as directed, which gave Castiel a really fantastic view of Dean’s backside.

 

After he set Dean’s juice on the bedside table, he silently positioned himself behind him, first opening the lube and smearing it on his hands before he gently began to coat Dean’s ass. Dean shivered at the touch and complained, “shit, that’s cold.”

 

“It’ll warm up,” Castiel assured him, pressing at Dean’s entrance with one finger.  Dean shuddered under his hands, and his back arched a little as Castiel pressed inside.  Mmm, Dean was warm, very warm.  He began to thrust slowly inside of the sub, moving to stretch him as quickly and painlessly as possible.  Dean took it mostly silently, with heavy breaths and almost imperceptible groans from time to time as Castiel added fingers.

 

When Castiel tried the buttplug, it went in easily. Dean shuddered as it sucked in and settled at the thick base.

 

“You did well,” Castiel murmured, rubbing a hand tenderly over Dean’s exposed shoulders and patting him.  Dean shivered under his hands, and his head dropped more between his arms.

 

Castiel was pleased to note Dean’s erection hanging between his thighs as he leaned down for his goody bag.  He pulled wet wipes out for the lube on his hands before he grabbed the paddle from the bag, to the sight of Dean’s flashing eyes and the tensing of his shoulders.

 

“We’ll work you up slowly.”  Castiel promised, fondling the paddle to feel the smooth wood of it against his hand.  “We’ll go slow, Dean.  And anytime you’re uncomfortable, just give the word.  If you want to back out, you can, whenever.” 

 

“Right.”  Dean agreed, his eyes still glued to the wood in Castiel’s hands.

 

Castiel figured there was no real way to work up to the first hit, so he just warned Dean with, “I’m going to start,” before cracking the wood against his ass.

 

Dean barely moved, his arms locked up and his shoulders a tense line, but Castiel saw his erection jump as the plug surged forward into him with the hit.

 

Dean let a controlled breath go as Castiel soothed the skin of his ass with his free hand, gently rubbing over the reddening patch.

 

“Good, Dean.  Very good,” he reassured him, trying to loosen some of the tension from his shoulders with compliments.  “If you want to make any sort of noise, I’m not going to judge you.”  Castiel got the feeling that Dean was the hold-it-in sort of man, probably because he was told anything other than that was weak, so Castiel might need to give him incentive to break that silence.  “In fact, I enjoy it,” he added.

 

“You do?”  Dean asked, and his voice sounded strained.

 

“I do,” Castiel promised him, withdrawing his soothing hand.  “I’m going again.”

 

_Crack._

 

“Fuck,” Dean spat out, more of a groan than a curse. 

 

“Yes,” Castiel hissed, rubbing over Dean’s cheeks again.  “Good, Dean.  I want to hear it.”

The next swat brought a sigh from Dean, a sigh that had Castiel leaking in his pants.  Dean’s ass was really starting to redden now, a nice warm color.

 

Castiel hit him five times in fast succession before he took a break, one hand on Dean’s ass soothing the ache as he shifted closer to Dean’s head.  Dean was openly panting, his knuckles white on the railing.

 

“How are you doing?” Castiel asked, setting the paddle down on the bed so he could run a hand through Dean’s hair.

 

“Good, I’m good,” Dean bit out, squeezing his eyes shut.  Castiel ran his hand through Dean’s hair once more.

 

“How’s that plug feel?”  Castiel asked, his voice low with arousal.

 

Dean made a sound Castiel couldn’t quite describe.

 

“Do you want me to take it out?” he asked, more of a tease than anything.  Dean gasped at that.

 

“No! Please no. Sir.”

 

“Does it feel like you’re getting fucked?” Castiel asked, trying his best to keep his composure but _damn_ , this was hot.  Dean was more of a natural sub than he’d previously thought.

 

“Yes, sir,” Dean answered quietly, his breathing fast.

 

“Do you want me to fuck you some more, then?” Castiel asked very softly, almost breathless with how beautiful Dean looked like this.

 

“Yes, sir.”  Dean bent his head down, his shoulders tensing but not to the extent they first were, now that he knew what to expect.

 

Castiel stopped varying his rhythm after that, though he would pause between every five to ten strokes in order to check Dean’s emotional temperature and give his ass a break. The music of Dean’s sounds coaxed Castiel into a state of fevered arousal, as did the sight of Dean’s ass all red and hot under his hand, the plug sticking out like a tempting placeholder for what Castiel actually wanted.

 

Castiel counted thirty strokes by the time he called it.  Dean was sweating then, and Castiel took in his ghostly, zoned-out expression and immediately pulled Dean up and into his arms on the bed.

 

“You are so gorgeous.”  He nibbled at Dean’s lip as he reached behind him to pull the plug from Dean’s ass.  Dean gasped and leaned his forehead against Castiel’s chest as the plug came free after some resistance. Castiel tossed it aside on the bed. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.” He kissed him again.

 

“Tell me what you want, Dean.” Castiel instructed him, curling a hand around Dean’s neck and holding him close to his body.  “We can have sex now, or I can just hold you like this.”

  
“No, Cas.  I need it. I’m ready for it.” Dean shook his head, his lips trembling against Cas’s skin. “I need you.  Please.” 

 

Castiel moved Dean onto his side, a hand on his waist to reassure him as he undid his pants and pulled his underwear down. He stripped his shirt off, too, because he figured Dean would want to sleep after this.  He pulled a condom from the bag by the bed and covered himself. Wrapping an arm around Dean’s middle, he carefully entered the sub.  Dean moaned as Castiel bottomed out, his lips soothing along Dean’s neck as his thumb stroked Dean’s side where he held him.

 

Castiel moved slowly, sweetly against Dean’s back, gently kissing and biting Dean’s neck. He wrapped a hand around Dean’s dick, jerking him in time with his thrusts.  Dean pleaded with him for more, for harder, and Cas amped up what he was giving until Dean’s fingernails scratched into his forearm, his lips dragged at Castiel’s lips as he craned his head around, and he was crying out on each thrust.

 

“Are you close?” Castiel asked, holding Dean possessively to his chest as he buried his nose in his neck.  

 

“So close,” Dean groaned, his breath coming in fast pants.

 

“Do you remember when we talked about orgasm denial?” Castiel asked, slowing his pace immediately. Dean scrabbled at his forearm and shoved his ass back towards Castiel, which surprised the dom until he remembered how new Dean was to this.  Dean was such a natural, he’d almost forgotten he was a rookie.

 

“Dean,” he admonished him, though he squeezed him gently in his arms to let him know he wasn’t actually angry. “Let me go.”

 

“No, Cas, please. No.” Dean whimpered, and something about the pleading whisper had Castiel pause before he demanded it of him.

 

“Use your safewords if you mean it,” Castiel reminded him, just to be sure.  Some subs liked the struggle, liked to push the power dynamic a little bit so the dom would show their authority.  Dean seemed like he might be one of those.

 

“Yellow,” Dean said immediately, and Castiel pushed back into him without hesitation to the reward of Dean’s body loosening in his arms.

 

Castiel was close too, and he almost immediately tipped over the edge when Dean fell over, his cries like music in Castiel’s ears.

 

“I love when you’re loud like that.” Castiel kissed the side of his cheek as they lay there panting.  “I love how you scream.”

 

Dean moaned in response, a pleased, but aching sound.

 

Castiel didn’t want to draw out of the sub right away, but there were things to do; this would be the first time Dean came down from subspace.  He pulled out to Dean’s protests and cleaned himself off first, and then Dean’s chest.

 

He climbed back in bed with Dean as quickly as possible, drawing Dean up into his arms to what seemed like the sub’s relief. Dean sighed and rested his cheek against Castiel’s chest.

 

“What you’re feeling is subspace. As you’re coming out of it, you’ve got a free pass, you can ask anything you want of me: if you want me to call you anything, or touch you in a certain way; I can make you dinner if you’re hungry; I can hold you for as long as you’d like, or let you recover with your own space. Whatever you want, Dean, I’ll do for you right now.  If you don’t have anywhere to be tonight, I’d like you to sleep this off with me nearby.”

 

Dean had his arms wrapped around Castiel, as far as he could get them.  Castiel was enjoying their position more than he expected he would – usually he wasn’t much of a cuddler.

 

“This is good, what you’re doing now.” Dean mumbled. His face twisted and he looked like he wanted to say something else, but he kept silent.  In any other situation, Castiel would have let it go, but not when Dean was in this state.

 

“Don’t be embarrassed.  You’ve got a free pass, ok?  I won’t judge you, whatever you ask for.”

 

“Nah, this is good.”  Dean sighed softly, readjusting on Castiel's chest.

 

“How are you feeling?” Cas asked, kissing Dean’s forehead in a way that he maybe wasn’t supposed to on this one night deal.

 

“Floaty.” Dean grinned, pressing in closer, his hands splaying out over Cas’s back. “Good, I think.  It's hard to tell.”

 

“Good. I’m glad.”  Castiel carded another hand through Dean’s hair, massaging the muscles at the base of his neck when he reached them. “Did you like it? You did very well.”

 

Dean nodded, a smile still on his face.

 

“You?”  Dean asked him, his tired eyes slitting open to look at Castiel.

 

“I loved it.  You were amazing." He paused and chuckled.  "We’ll have to work on your discipline with orgasm denial next time, but it was your first time, and that was a lot to take in.”  Castiel reported to him, kissing Dean’s cheek, again in a way he maybe shouldn’t. “You can sleep, if you’d like.”

 

“Yes.”  Dean nodded.  “Yes, please. My alarm’s in my pocket, should wake me up in the morning.”

 

“Ok.  I’ll set it on the bedside table when you fall asleep.”  Castiel stroked his thumb over Dean’s cheek fondly, looking over his beautiful face and wondering at his raw, dumb luck that night.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Morning came way too soon, but it came with wonderful smells and the sound of cooking.  Castiel got up and looked around, confused because there had been no mystery sounds in his kitchen at any time of the day since he moved in months ago.

 

Then the night came flashing back to him, and a smile split his face. 

 

He immediately stood and pulled on boxers, padding out to the kitchen to find Dean, woefully dressed, sprinkling cheese over what looked like an omelet.

 

When Dean noticed him at the hallway, he stopped, a flush rising to his cheeks as his expression shifted from nervous to embarrassed in the span of a second.

 

“I hope you don’t mind. I have to run and see Sammy in a few minutes, but I wanted to thank you, somehow.”

 

“You have to run,” Castiel repeated, his heart sinking as fast as it had bubbled up just a few moments earlier.  Dean didn’t miss his disheartened tone, but he did misinterpret it.

 

“Sorry, I know I should have asked, but I didn’t want to wake you up.”  He looked down at the food he’d made, shame crossing his features.

 

“Dean, this looks delicious.  Thank you,” Castiel said sincerely, drawing closer.  “I’m only disappointed we can’t spend more time getting to know each other.”

 

Dean’s expression twisted as he looked up, his eyes stopping at Castiel’s lips.

 

“I’ve gotta hang out with my brother today, it's our last day together,” Dean said, wetting his own lips hesitantly, chewing the bottom one before he finally continued on, “but tonight, maybe late tonight, I could come back if you wanted.”

 

“I want you to come back,” Castiel assured him. 

 

“I leave early in the morning, though.  Dad wants to be out by six.”

 

“That’s fine,” Castiel agreed easily, already excited that he didn’t have to say goodbye yet.  He probably would have agreed to anything to see Dean again.  Castiel spotted Dean’s phone on the counter by what was presumably Castiel’s omelet now.

 

“Can I give you my number, so you can call and let me know when you’re coming?” he asked, holding out his hand for the phone.

 

“Yes, sir,” Dean agreed.  Castiel almost laughed in surprise.

 

“We’re done with our scene now; there’s no need to call me sir.”

 

Dean’s shoulders slumped – Castiel hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his posture for him – and a relaxed smile flitted over his mouth.  He walked around to meet Castiel at the hallway as Castiel inputted his number, a little slow with the unfamiliar settings.  “Good. I didn’t really want to have to ask for permission.”

 

“Morning breath, though.”  Castiel held up a hand as Dean moved to kiss him.  Dean made a face and stepped back, but Castiel couldn’t believe what an idiot he was for caring in the first place and immediately moved into Dean’s space, caging him against the nearby wall as he pressed their lips together.

 

“You’re right, that was a bad idea.” Dean laughed as their combined breaths caused Castiel’s nose to wrinkle.

 

“I told you.”  Castiel smiled back, but it was completely worth it to get this close to Dean again, to touch him and reassure himself that he wasn’t some beautiful dream, that last night really happened.  And Dean let him give him his number, plus he cooked him breakfast as ‘thanks’, so it must not have been a bad experience for him either.

 

“Shit, I really have to run Cas, I wasn’t kidding.” Dean’s hands rested against Castiel’s chest as his eyes flitted to what Castiel guessed was the clock above the oven.

 

Castiel leaned back, letting Dean escape his arms. Dean plucked his phone from Castiel’s hands and lifted it to his eyes to squint at it.

 

“Castiel Novak.”  Dean’s eyes were a bright shade of green in the glow of the screen as he looked at Castiel one last time, offering a charming smile.  “I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

 

“This isn’t goodbye.” Castiel whispered to himself as Dean let himself out the front door.  _This isn’t goodbye, not yet._


	4. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel learns that Dean's romantic experience is mostly limited to bar hookups and decides he has to treat Dean to a romantic date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some Meg wank. Though Cas was Meg's special unicorn and she died heroically, she was still a demon so I usually headcanon a complex, ambiguous relationship backstory for them.
> 
> As always, leave a comment with suggestions for what you want to see in future timestamps! I'm enjoying writing this verse, so I'll probably drop a few more if people are interested.

 

Dean is waiting for him in the parking lot when Castiel walks down the stairs from the physics department. Dean’s big, sleek black car is still idling as he leans against the hood, arms crossed.  He waves once to castiel, just a lifting of his hand, and Castiel smiles briefly in return. 

 

The kiss when Castiel reaches him is brief, but so important.  He can’t believe he gets to kiss Dean now on a daily basis.  It’s such a small gesture, but it means as much to him as being able to spend his days studying planet rotation and movement, which he’d worked and studied for years to do.

 

“So where are we headed?”  Dean asked as Castiel climbed in the side door and Dean clambered in the driver’s side. 

 

“Does Italian food sound like an appropriate meal for a date?”  Castiel asked, actually a little uncertain.  He hadn’t been on many dates before, and very few he actually enjoyed.

 

“Yes?”  Dean sounded uncertain, “You’re asking the wrong man.”

 

Castiel helped Dean move from his hometown in Kansas, but they drove in separate cars and didn’t have much time to talk on the way. At dinners and lunches, however, Dean had nervously mentioned that most of his relationship experience was limited to bar hookups.  Castiel was horrified that Dean hadn’t been treated to the dates he deserved and insisted they do as much “dating” as possible when Dean was settled.

 

Castiel explained the route to Dean and sat back to enjoy the drive in silence and let his mind wind down from his long workday. Dean didn’t attempt to start conversation until they reached the small Italian restaurant a few minutes later.

 

It was warm inside; warm colors and warm light. Dean looked around, seemingly interested in everything, his eyes bright.  Castiel picked out a table for two in the back where the lighting was lower and they were sequestered away from other patrons.

 

Dean ordered the “thing with the most cheese, meat and red sauce”, and Castiel ordered vegetarian lasagna. 

 

“Wow.  So.” Dean grinned at him across the table, leaning on his elbows and curling his hands together in front of his lips in a way Castiel found adorable. “This is a date.”

 

“Thank you for moving here, Dean.” Castiel said softly. “It’s a privilege to be able to dine with you.”

 

“A privilege? Geez, Cas.”  Dean muttered, a slow flush starting on his cheeks. “It’s just dinner.”

 

“How is Sam handling the news?” Castiel asked. He and Sam had met briefly before he helped Dean move, and Sam had seemed a bit hesitant about him, though Castiel already liked him a great deal.

 

Dean shifted, conflict crossing his features.

 

“He’s a little worried that I moved across the country when we don’t know each other that well yet.  But I also wanted to be closer to him, and you’re right I can work as a mechanic pretty much anywhere, so why not?  I was renting back home, so I wasn’t really tied down.”

 

“I’m glad I wasn’t the sole deciding factor for you,” Castiel nodded.  “Though I am ecstatic that I’m able to get to know you better now.”

 

“Ecstatic?  Cas, you really know how to make a guy feel all dapper and special.” Dean’s lips twitched with a slight smile.

 

 “I can’t really be coy at this stage, so I might as well be honest.” Castiel shrugged.

 

“It’s, uh, it’s nice.”  Dean thumbed his wine, lifting the glass from the table. Castiel loved the sweet, toying smile on his face. “Sammy’s been asking all sorts of questions about you, though, like where and how we met and… I’m not great at lying to him.”  Dean set his wine glass down and rubbed his hands on his pants, pausing before he continued, “but I’m also not about to explain to my brother that spanking gives me a case of the jollies.”

 

Castiel snorted into his glass. “No, I don’t blame you. I don’t speak to my family about my sexual preferences either.”

 

“What’s your family like?”  Dean asked, leaning forward on the table in interest.

 

“My mother is very strict. My father disappeared when I was little, we don’t know what happened to him.  I have two brothers, Balthazar and Gabriel, neither of which I wish to subject you to just yet.”

 

“I’m sorry about your father.”

 

“I made my peace with his absence long ago.” Castiel stopped, swallowing through the lump before he added,  “I just wish I knew if he was still alive.” He didn’t usually talk about this, but he wanted to try to be open with Dean.  He wanted to share as much of himself with Dean as he could, since Dean had already given so much of himself over to him.

 

Dean subtly touched his hand to Castiel’s, interlocking their fingers loosely.

 

“I never really knew my mother, either. She died when I was four.

Dean confided in a gentle voice, his eyes communicating his deep understanding of Castiel’s life without one of his parents. Castiel nodded, grateful for Dean’s sincerity.  Dean drew his hand back, but Castiel grabbed it and kept it where it was, running his thumb over the back of Dean’s hand.  Dean looked away at the gesture, almost shy, and cleared his throat.

 

“Why don’t you want me to meet your brothers? What are they like?”

 

“Insufferable pranksters.  I was the butt of their jokes growing up. It was exhausting.” Castiel explained with an eye-roll, glad Dean had opted for a lighter topic.

“Ah. That’s probably more how Sammy would describe me, actually.”  Dean said, sheepish.

 

“I think your brother is far more complimentary of you than you realize.”  Castiel was thinking of when Dean had left for the bathroom at their meet and greet and Sam had a “heart to heart” with Castiel about taking care of his brother.

 

Their food arrived in the middle of Dean relating stories about him and his brother growing up, and Castiel had to give up Dean’s hand so Dean could eat.  He couldn’t believe that he was _allowed_ to hold Dean’s hand. He’d at least tried to keep some distance between them before, when they were just occasional sex buddies, but now he got to _hold Dean’s hand_.

 

“Do you think that’s part of why we are the way we are?”  Dean asked, setting his fork down after a few bites of his cheesy meat thing.  Castiel tilted his head, not following Dean’s train of thought, since his own had been on, well, hand holding. “With your dad gone, and my mom dead… do you think that messed us up somehow?”  Dean asked, staring at his food.

 

“What, you think we’re overcompensating or…?” Castiel asked, folding his hands over the table.  He could see the reasoning behind it, but as a scientist he was reluctant to accept any theory without proof. “It’s possible.  I’m not particularly interested in psychoanalyzing myself, or you.  I don’t think it much matters why we are the way we are as long as what passes between us is consensual and safe.”

 

“Yeah.  Yeah, you’re right.”  Dean agreed, shaking his head as though he could shake the negative thoughts out of it. “This is so bizarre, sitting here with you, at a restaurant like a normal couple.”  


“We are a normal couple.”  Castiel frowned, irked by Dean’s implication. Dean caught on to Castiel’s tone and clarified quickly,

 

“Oh, I didn’t mean that, Cas. I just meant… compared to all our previous hookups, now we’re sitting here politely at a table with people around, and I don’t have my ass in harness.”

 

Castiel couldn’t help a wicked grin at the reminder of two years ago when Dean took a weeklong trip to visit Sam and Castiel introduced him to bondage.

 

“You could later, if you’re up for it.” Castiel suggested lightly, very pleasant memories distracting him. He meant it to be casual, but Dean straightened immediately, gripping his fork hard. Castiel’s grin widened at Dean’s reaction and he held Dean’s eyes until the sub looked away, flustered.

 

“Shit, we should definitely talk about something else so I can finish eating.”

  
“Of course.” Castiel agreed, still laughing inside. “How’s unpacking? I have some time this weekend to help you if you need.”

  
“Naw, I got it.  I’m almost done.” Dean seemed to recover himself somewhat and he tentatively forked some more of his food into his mouth. “Oh.”  He stopped, biting his lower lip. His voice was lower when he next spoke, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening to them. “You remember those underwear you wanted to see me in?  I found ‘em while I was unpacking.  They were in one of those boxes we pulled out of storage.”  Dean shifted in his seat, grinning at Cas as he whispered, “They’re so silky! I forgot how amazing these things feel.”

 

Castiel’s mouth went completely dry as he imagined Dean in a pair of lacy, bright pink underwear, bent over his knee, the muscles of his ass moving under the sheer fabric as he tried to hold himself still under Castiel’s merciless hand.

 

“You’re wearing them right now?” Castiel asked softly, his whole body lighting up with lust.

 

Dean, who hadn’t realized the effect his words had on Castiel, was busy eating more of his dinner.  When he looked up, he froze at Castiel’s expression. He slowly set his fork down.

 

“Seemed like a nice surprise for a first date, after you got so excited when I mentioned them.”  Dean replied quietly.

 

“That was very considerate of you, Dean,” Castiel said slowly, tearing his eyes away and focusing on his food. The tension amped up between them to a palpable state, but Castiel didn’t meant to put it there. No matter how much he wanted to cut the date short and drag Dean back to his apartment so he could enact all the fantasies running through his head, Dean deserved a real date, a full one.

 

Castiel tried to bring it the atmosphere back down by distracting Dean with innocuous questions about his car. Dean seemed to take the bait, shifting into a more comfortable position and chewing his food in a more haphazard manner, easily smiling and gesturing as he described caring for his ‘baby’. 

 

“So dad gave her to me when he thought I could treat her right.”  Dean finished, smiling now. “And she runs perfect, just perfect. I intend to keep her like that until I die, if not longer.”  


“That’s a long time.”

  
“Cars like her will run forever if you keep up with ‘em.” Dean waved Castiel’s concern away. “Just, most people don’t know how.”

 

“I suppose I would be one of those people,” Castiel smiled.  “You’ll have to show me how to care for my own car as though it’s a child.”  
  
“Sure thing, Cas.”  Dean agreed, looking pleased, though Castiel had been teasing him a little.

 

Castiel was still smiling to himself over Dean’s earnest attitude when Dean set his fork down again and leaned over the table with intent.

 

“Cas, I think you owe me a story.”

 

“I do?” 

 

“Yeah, man.  How did you get into this stuff?  You’ve obviously been doing this for a while.”

 

“Ah.”  Castiel really didn’t think it was one worth telling, but if Dean wanted to know he would tell him anything.  He thought back on his first days at Stanford, a familiar unease settling in his stomach. He took a sip of wine before he started.

 

“When I was a freshman, I started seeing this girl -”

 

“Girl?”  Dean interrupted, his eyes lighting up in excitement. “So you’re like me?”

 

“I suppose I would land more on the spectrum than off to the edge, yes.”  Castiel conceded, and Dean’s big smile at their unknown connection warmed his heart. But he should probably be entirely honest, so he continued carefully, “Meg was the only woman I ever dated and one of the very few I’ve ever found myself attracted to, though the same could be said of men.  My sexual attraction is… complicated, and finicky. Anyhow, she introduced me to this lifestyle. We both thought I was more submissive than dominant at first.”  
  
“No shit,” Dean was grinning again, “ _You_ were a _sub_ when you first started?”

 

“Yes. One day she gave me the opportunity to switch with her and I found I far preferred taking control than giving it. I have never been one for authority, really, and thinking back on it now I was more attracted to the idea of bdsm for than the submission she asked of me.  That being said, a year under her taught me how to dominate, as the best way to learn dominance is to submit.  She was far more sadistic than I, though, and I ended up severely hurt more than once, though it was always accidental on her part.  It taught me a valuable lesson about sadism, however, and I learned from her mistakes.”

 

Dean leaned even closer, his eyes a mix of conflicting emotions, “What happened to you guys?”

 

“She was three years older than me, and when she graduated she moved.  It was for the best; we weren’t very compatible in our preferences, and we weren’t close emotionally.  I don’t think I ever really trusted her, and that’s the death of a relationship in our lifestyle.”

 

“After her, I started working with other doms to step out of my submissive role and into a permanent dominant role. I have fond memories of my time with Meg, but she was not perfect, and I picked up some of her flaws as a dom and sadist.”

 

“Like what?”  Dean wondered.

  
“Meg used to scene with me when she was emotionally compromised, and it led to her pushing my boundaries beyond my comfort, and manipulating me out of using safewords until it was too late.  I didn’t realize I was doing the same thing until I performed a public scene and a more experienced, respected dom came up to me afterwards and admonished me for it.”

 

“Jesus.  Well, she sounds like a trip.”

 

“Our relationship was difficult.” Castiel nodded, forking some lasagna into his mouth.  “I haven’t been in a steady relationship since then.”  Castiel felt an old twinge of frustration at his confusion at that time - with his sexuality, with Meg, and with his preferences.  He’d always suspected Meg secretly knew he would be more comfortable in a dominant position, but she didn’t want to lose him as a submissive so she’d pushed him into accepting it.

 

“Do you have any desire to dominate, Dean?” Castiel asked as the thought occurred to him.

                        

Dean looked away from him, studying his plate.

 

“Naw, that’s never been something I liked.  Most of my life I’ve been in charge of my brother, had a lot of responsibilities. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t… there’s nothing I would change about that, because Sammy needed me after mom died, but given the choice?  I’d much rather take the backseat.  What we do… it feels natural to me, and I don’t want it to change.”

 

“I see.” A small, tense part of Castiel loosened at Dean’s explanation.  Over the years he’d realized Dean was possibly more submissive than masochistic, though his original interest had been in masochism.  Castiel slowly introduced him to submission with the hope that he would take to it since Castiel’s primary interest was in dominance and not sadism, and Dean had seemed to, much to his relief.  Hearing it out of Dean’s mouth instead of making assumptions was infinitely reassuring to Castiel, though.  He didn’t want to repeat more of Meg’s mistakes.

 

Dean ordered pie. He explained to Castiel that he would probably always order pie. They split it.  Castiel wanted to feed Dean a piece, but he had a feeling Dean would find that embarrassing out in public so he just packaged some up for later to ask it of him when they got back to Castiel’s apartment.

 

Castiel was shrugging his jacket on, bill paid, when Dean announced he would meet him at the door after he finished in the bathroom. 

 

Castiel really did think about meeting him at the door and politely escorting him back to his apartment, he did.  That’s definitely not what he ended up doing, though.

 

The look of shock that crossed Dean’s features as Castiel shoved him back into the bathroom on his way out was priceless, a memory for Castiel’s growing mental scrapbook of “favorite things Dean does”.

 

Dean groaned loudly as he hit the sink counter, as Castiel hefted him easily onto the sturdy though slightly damp stone surface and shoved his whole body into him.

 

“Cassss,” Dean hissed as Castiel pulled at his clothes and shoved his hand down Dean’s pants. The silky fabric he came in contact with made him shudder and stop, stroking his hand over the curve of Dean’s ass with reverence, his breath quaking as it ghosted over Dean’s shoulder.

 

“I want to suck you.” Castiel whispered fervently. “I want to scene with you, Dean, right here, right now.”  It came out as a statement, but it was really a question. He needed Dean’s consent before he could start rattling off orders.

 

“What do you want me to do?” Dean asked, his voice shaking as he cradled Castiel’s head to his chest and pushed eagerly against the hand Castiel had tucked down his jeans.

 

“I want you to cross your wrists above your head and hold them there until I tell you not to.” Castiel whispered urgently, dragging his hand around Dean’s hips to massage his hardening groin through the sleek fabric.

 

Dean nodded and raised two shaking arms up above his head as Castiel instructed.

 

“Your arms are going to get tired.”  Castiel told him softly as he yanked his pants down over his ass and past his feet. “Fight it.  Hold them until you can’t anymore.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“You are so good to me, Dean.” Castiel praised him, brushing a gentle kiss over his full lips, resting his hands on Dean’s hips and massaging his thumbs over Dean’s panties.  “So good.” He looked down pointedly at the underwear, his mouth already watering at the sight.  They were fancy, satin and lace with intricate patterns in varying degrees of opacity, and Dean just barely fit into them, the tip of his erect cock poking out the top. They felt amazing, just as dean had told him they would at dinner.  Castiel managed to push the thought of Dean like this just far enough down to continue normal conversation, but it had been under the surface, tormenting him, since Dean brought up his little surprise.

 

“Spread.” Castiel ordered in a hard voice. Dean inched his knees farther apart for Castiel while Castiel steadied his precarious position on the sink counter. “More.  Yes, that’s it.”

 

Castiel sank to his knees, bringing his face close to Dean’s satiny crotch. With a moan he couldn’t contain, he licked along the soft surface, moistening the fabric with his tongue and mouthing along the hard line of Dean’s cock.  He brought a hand up to massage Dean’s balls as he played with his cock, biting lightly along the shaft and sucking at the tip where it poked out under the lace.  Dean tasted slightly salty and bitter, but it gave way to a clean, soap-scrubbed taste that was pleasant against Castiel’s tongue as he laved over the fat head.

 

When he looked up to check with the sub, Dean was watching him with wide eyes, his arms resting on the top of his head.  Castiel sat back on his feet to fix Dean with an annoyed stare and the sub immediately straightened his arms above his head.

 

“Good boy.” Castiel smirked before he redirected his attention to the wet fabric over Dean’s groin. 

 

He ran his cheek and nose over the soft fabric, enjoying the clean _Dean_ scent mixed with the smell of fresh laundry.  He couldn’t reach Dean’s ass anymore, which frankly was his favorite part of Dean’s body, so he tugged until Dean slid off the sink and landed, freeing his ass for Castiel’s hands.  He moaned loudly as Castiel pulled the band of the underwear down and over Dean’s balls with only his teeth, his hands too preoccupied with cupping Dean’s silky ass to help with the process.  He skated back up along Dean’s length, the hard edge of his teeth causing Dean to wince and shudder with pain. Castiel looked up at him and saw that Dean had no complaints over the tiny bit of pain; in fact he looked more turned on than ever, his lips parted and his eyes hooded as he watched Castiel.

 

Castiel was particularly fond of giving head, especially for a man as receptive as Dean, who’s every thought and feeling showed up in his expression.  As it was, Castiel was getting nothing but shock, awe, and lust, which definitely did wonders for his confidence in his skills. 

 

When he hollowed his cheeks out and sucked, Dean let out a cry he had to physically stifle as he remembered where they were.  Castiel closed his eyes, fighting off his laughter as he swatted just hard enough at Dean’s silky ass to create a loud slap.  He tried to concentrate on coaxing an orgasm from Dean as fast as possible, as they didn’t want to get kicked out for using the bathroom for too long.

 

“Keep those arms up.” Castiel reminded him as he popped off to inspect Dean’s form.  Dean was undoubtedly getting tired, his posture and arms drooping dangerously low again, sweat forming visibly on his brow.  Dean straightened immediately.  “Not much longer.”

 

“Oh god, you’re telling me?” Dean groaned.  “I won’t last another five minutes at this rate.”

 

“Yes, that’s the goal.” Castiel assured him, licking along his length before starting a steady rhythm, twisting his hand on the upstroke along Dean’s shaft.  He suckled at the tip of Dean’s cock as he worked him over with his hands to the sound of Dean’s heavy breathing and occasional whimpers of want.

 

It wasn’t long before Dean was spraying into Castiel’s mouth, his entire body tightening before he sagged back against the counter, completely limp. When Castiel checked this time, Dean’s arms were still straight above his head.

 

He got to his knees and drank some water from the sink to wash down the bitter taste of come, eyeing Dean appreciatively.  The sub was obviously exhausted, but he kept his arms up as Castiel asked. Castiel noted the slight trembling at his elbows.

 

He walked directly in front of him, planting his feet between Dean’s still spread legs and twisted his nipple for a gasp of pain from the sub.

 

“Waiting for me to give the word?”  Castiel asked softly.

 

Dean nodded, a stubborn set to his jaw as his eyes sparkled in challenge.

 

Castiel twisted again. Dean gasped, a moan in his throat.

 

“You are magnificent.” Castiel murmured as he brushed a kiss over Dean’s lips, “I’m going to reward you for that tonight.  You may relax, Dean.”

 

“Thank you, sir.” Dean sighed, his arms dropping immediately to his sides.  Castiel drew him into a deeper kiss, pulling his weight into his arms as he pushed into Dean’s mouth with his tongue.  Dean melted into Castiel’s thorough exploration of his mouth. “I think that roadie was reward enough, though.”  He grinned at Castiel cheekily.  Castiel pressed another quick kiss to his lips before he bent to retrieve his pants. He smoothed down Dean’s fucked up hair as the sub adjusted his wet underwear and pulled his jeans back on.

 

“How about we go home and sleep immediately?  How’s that for a reward?”  Castiel asked, swiping his thumb fondly over Dean’s cheekbone.

 

“I’ll definitely settle for that.” 


	5. Timestamp: The First Time Dean Returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second time Dean visited Castiel's apartment.

Dean had never texted him before, so Castiel almost didn’t believe when his name popped up on his screen with the small, yellow mail icon below it.

 

_I’m here, want 2 c u_

 

Castiel texted back as fast as his brain could think,  _please do, I’m available tonight._ He typed out an email to his astrophysics teacher on how violently sick to his stomach he was, rendering him incapable of completing the homework problems for tonight.  It wasn’t a card he played often, so his teacher would very likely take pity on him. If not, it wasn’t a tough or important assignment.

 

Dean was important. Dean was too important for the fleeting nature of their current booty call arrangement, and even though Castiel knew that he couldn't stop the swell of feelings that came every time he thought about him.

 

An hour later, Castiel almost ran to his door when he heard the knock.  

 

He wasn’t prepared for the stumbling mess that fell through it. Dean’s eyes were bloodshot as he steadied himself on Castiel’s outstretched arms, his hands wavering as they groped without coordination for Castiel’s biceps and shoulders.

 

“Hey, sexy.” Dean grinned up at him, pressing close enough that Castiel recoiled from the stench of alcohol on his breath. “Long time no see.”

 

Disappointment settled like a rock in his stomach, but his excitement at Dean’s presence didn’t disappear completely.  It had been seven months since he last saw Dean, and just the smell of him, though heavily laced with alcohol, calmed Castiel’s nerves.  He wasn’t sure he’d ever see him again, so he would take what he could get, even if what he got was… this.

 

Castiel pulled Dean to the couch and laid him down.

 

“Cas…” Dean leaned lazily on his elbows as he watched Castiel walk away, his shoulders tense as he poured Dean a cup of water. “C’mere.”  Dean gestured vaguely, waving his hand. 

 

Castiel complied, but he placed the cup of water in Dean’s hands and sat on the armchair off to the side instead of next to Dean on the couch as Dean was obviously intending. Dean, thankfully, drank deeply from the glass of water and didn’t protest Castiel’s gesture.

 

Dean mumbled incoherently, his gaze drifting over the apartment, though Castiel got the sense he was not really seeing.  “…Didn’t work anymore. Had to see you,” this time loud enough for Castiel to make out the words.   

 

“Have you eaten?” Castiel’s asked quietly as Dean finished drinking, ignoring the painful squirming in his gut.

 

“Mmm.” Dean answered vaguely. “C’mere, Cas.” He shifted so he was watching Castiel through lidded eyes, his lips parted for his pink tongue as he wet them. “Need you,” he whispered, almost too quiet for Castiel to hear

 

Castiel didn’t move, didn’t flinch, though he wanted nothing more than to throw himself on the gorgeous creature on his couch.

 

“I’m making you a fried egg sandwich.”

 

He stood quickly and made his way to the kitchen, the heat still curling in his stomach from the look on Dean’s face.  He switched the oven on and drizzled oil into a pan. 

 

Dean watched him quietly from the couch.  Castiel popped two pieces of bread in the toaster and settled in to watch the progress of his eggs.

 

Dean rose unsteadily from the couch as the toast popped up.  Castiel looked up in time to see him holding the wall with one hand, a grim expression on his face as he headed down the hall to the doorway.

 

Castiel stepped directly into his path.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked softly, his most domineering tone slipping out in his impatience.

 

“It’s cool, man,” Dean mumbled, waving one hand again in a vague gesture while still gripping the wall with the other to keep from toppling. “No really, it’s cool. I’ll get outta your hair.”

  
“No.  It’s not ‘cool’.” Castiel shook his head stubbornly. “Get your ass in the bedroom. _Now_.”

 

Dean paled before he turned, slowly, to comply with Castiel’s rude demand.  Castiel was officially too upset by Dean’s intoxicated state to care.

 

When Castiel brought the steaming sandwich in to Dean, he was half lying on the edge of the bed.

 

“Eat.” Castiel ordered simply, tugging Dean into a sitting position and setting the plate in his lap. Dean ate. 

 

Castiel arranged the bed, which was only half made since he woke up late that morning, and busied himself cleaning in the silence while Dean finished.

 

Dean didn’t announce when he was done, but Castiel was watching more carefully than he let on. He took the plate from Dean’s hands, returned it to the kitchen, and backtracked to stand in front of Dean, who was openly subdued by his presence. He looked lost, uncomfortable, as though he was waiting for Castiel's continued direction. That was something Castiel could do, at least, though he had less experience in dealing with drunk friends.

 

“Strip.” Castiel said softly. Dean clumsily undressed, and Castiel gathered his clothes in a folded pile when he wasn’t helping Dean with the apparently difficult process.

 

Castiel almost blanched when Dean stumbled over to the bottom of the bed and braced himself as he had the last time, fingers clenching white on the bed post, when Castiel had paddled him.

 

“No,” Castiel barked, a little stricken by the sight. He tried to inject more soothing than anger into his tone, which was likely what caused Dean to draw that revolting conclusion. “In the bed.”

 

Dean tilted his head at him and slowly complied, crawling up to the top of the bed and lying back against the headboards. Castiel’s heart beat a little too quickly as he stripped down to his boxers like Dean and lifted the covers to the opposite side of the bed than Dean had chosen.

 

“Get in,” Castiel said simply as Dean watched him settle in for bed. Dean’s expression twitched into something unreadable, but then he complied, shifting until he could move the covers up over his body.

 

Castiel faked sleep before he could actually accomplish the task.  His nose was full of Dean’s irresistible scent, and Dean was right there if he wanted to pull him into his body, but he didn’t feel he could touch Dean in any capacity while he was still intoxicated to such a degree. Castiel could still enjoy Dean’s presence, though, and memorize his beautiful face in the darkness without accumulating any guilt.


	6. Timestamp: The First Time Dean Returned Part II

Dean’s movements woke Castiel up. They’d drifted closer in their sleep, legs tangling a bit, so when Dean tried to extract himself he jostled Castiel awake.  Castiel blinked awake to the sight of Dean’s ashen face, his eyes darting around the room in confusion.

 

“Good morning,” Castiel said softly, extending a cautious hand to Dean’s smooth cheek. “How are you?” he asked as he swiped a thumb carefully over his cheekbone.

 

“I’m…” Dean squeezed his eyes shut, swallowed. He rolled away from Castiel’s touch and onto his back.  He flung a hand over his eyes to massage his temples. “Christ.”

 

Castiel pressed up onto his elbows to get a better look at Dean’s expression. He seemed to be grimacing, but his cheeks were also redder than usual. 

 

“Your head?” Castiel asked, as neutrally as he could manage.

 

“It’s…” Dean’s frown twisted down even more. “Fuck.”

 

“I have some aspirin.” Castiel made to get up, but Dean grabbed at his arm. Castiel paused. Dean’s hand clenched up over Castiel’s wrist for a long moment  before Dean finally spoke.

 

“I’m fine. I think I’m gonna go.”

 

Finally that disappointment from earlier sunk fully down into Castiel’s stomach. This was all he got, after months of waiting.  Now Dean was fleeing, though his motivation was still unclear to Castiel.

Maybe he could still salvage this _thing_ between them, but if Dean walked out that door there was a very slim chance he’d walk through it again.

 

“You have two options,” Castiel started, sitting up in the bed to prop himself against the headboard. “You can leave now, or you can take responsibility for coming to me falling down drunk after I explicitly told you not to scene with me intoxicated.”

 

Dean slowly raised his eyes to Castiel’s, and Castiel could finally identify his emotions: deep shame and frustration. Oddly, that soothed some of the ache in Castiel’s heart. Dean had wasted one of their precious few nights together, but at least he felt bad about it. It was likely, more than likely, that Castiel was the only one of the two who considered their time together precious. This was still all new to Dean, and he never made any promises to Castiel.

 

“Are you staying, then?” Castiel tried not to hold his breath for the answer.

 

“You looked ready enough to kick me out last night,” Dean pointed out uneasily. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed but no longer seemed as though he could leap to his feet at any moment.

 

“I already gave you the rules, Dean, and you broke them. No intoxication when we scene. I’m not going to sleep with you drunk.”

 

“Just did,” Dean remarked with a hint of a smirk. Castiel’s heart tugged. He caught the sub by the jaw and pulled him to face him.

 

“Mouthy,” Castiel whispered, his lips curling up despite himself. Then, slow and clear, “Are you staying, or are you going?”

 

Dean looked between his eyes, then looked down. He made no effort to detach from Castiel’s grip.

 

“You actually want me here?”

  
Castiel paused, unsure how Dean could have possibly gotten the impression he didn’t want him there… more often than he could admit, for how little they saw each other. But he’d been angry last night, and Dean had probably misread his irritation.

 

“On the condition that you’re willing to take what punishment I see fit to dole out, yes. If not, you can leave.”

 

Dean’s eyes caught on his at that, the bright green gleaming with curiosity and just a hint of that spark Castiel adored

 

“What kind of punishment?” Dean asked. His voice was a hoarse whisper and his breath was already picking up nearly imperceptibly.

 

Castiel’s insides warmed considerably as he directed Dean into the position he wanted - on all fours in the middle of the bed.  When he was satisfied with the sub’s placement, he fished out of his side drawer what he’d placed there the moment after he’d replied to Dean’s text. He set the ten inch black dildo and bottle of lube in front of Dean and watched the sub visibly pale at the sight.  He didn’t mention that this was what he had in mind for their night before Dean drunkenly stumbled to his door, that it wasn’t really intended as a _punishment_. Calling it such would simply assuage some of Dean’s guilt at upsetting Castiel.

 

Castiel rose from the bed and dragged a pair of jeans up from his dresser.  He carefully buttoned up a black shirt, too. He didn’t want Dean to have any illusions about his expectations; Dean was getting no help from Castiel this time, it was all him and the dildo. Just to punctuate his point, he settled down on an old comfy chair at least five feet from the bed and Dean, in the corner of his room. Dean watched his movements with visible unease, and Castiel saw him swallow as Castiel made himself comfortable in the seat, obviously there to stay.  It was a fairly simple but potent power trip, leaving Dean naked on the bed in the spotlight while Castiel faded into a spectator position. Dean might be uncomfortable under such scrutiny, but that was part of the thrill, part of the “punishment”.

 

“What would you do?” Castiel asked, lowering his voice to barely a whisper, thrilled by how Dean’s shoulders tightened at the sound of it anyway. “If I wasn’t here, what would you do?”

  
Dean stared.

 

“Can’t you just –“

 

“No.”

 

Dean frowned briefly, swallowed again.

 

He carefully sat back on his haunches and started rubbing lube over one hand.

 

Castiel watched as Dean slowly arched his arm under his body. He saw the twinge of emotion in his face as he pressed against himself, the release of tension as he slid in. Castiel’s breath caught as Dean’s cheeks reddened, his erection swelling to life between his thighs, all while his arm started to work unsteadily back and forth behind him.

 

It was quiet in the room. The bright light from the window illuminated the perfect tones of Dean’s skin, the sinew as it moved under his dusting of freckles. Castiel watched until Dean’s breath had deepened into something audible from where he sat, ragged on each pull, until a delicate pink stained his cheeks.

 

Dean seemed to be pretending Castiel wasn’t present, though the awkward fluttering glances in Castiel’s direction made it abundantly clear that he was not forgotten. Finally Dean paused when he had fallen back on one arm, changing the angle well enough that Castiel could see Dean’s other hand disappearing into the swell of his ass.

 

Castiel almost found himself leaning forward eagerly as Dean reached for the dildo, his hand glistening with lube and only trembling a little. He slowly rubbed what lube was left over on the shaft of the impressive cock, then thoughtfully drizzled more onto his hands and worked it into the silicone.

 

Dean’s eyes darted to Castiel’s for the first time since he’d begun. He hesitantly reached back behind himself, identical to how he reached to finger himself, giant cock gripped around the fake balls.

 

Castiel eagerly caught his eyes and held them. Dean licked his lips, his arm stiff, before his mouth fell open in surprise and his eyes squeezed shut in an “oh” expression. Castiel could tell when Dean bottomed out, could see how Dean’s breathing evened, and his chest stilled. 

 

Then Dean started to move again, and he let out the breath he’d been holding. Dean’s cock jerked a bit with each thrust, which started out slow and laborious and quickly built to smooth jerks of Dean’s hand. Castiel finally grew curious enough that he stood and circled around the bed to watch the dildo disappear into Dean’s gorgeous ass. Dean couldn’t take it all, as he’d suspected, but he managed to swallow a decent length.

 

Dean watched him over his shoulder, his mouth hanging a little open and his expression twinging at each downward stroke.

 

Castiel found his eyes again, and this far gone Dean didn’t look away; instead he held Castiel’s gaze, open lust and longing etched in every shift of his mouth, every soft groan. Lust made Dean bolder than Castiel had seen before.

 

Castiel wondered briefly if Dean would beg him to fuck him. Maybe he would work himself into such a frenzy that he would lose his pride and flat out _beg_ for Castiel’s cock.

 

That was probably wishful thinking, though. It wasn’t likely, not from what he’d seen of Dean. If he didn’t want to watch the man fall to pieces by his own hand, Castiel was going to have to take action soon.

 

“Cas.” The breathy pant was more of a moan than a word.

 

_Or maybe…_

 

Castiel arched over the bed, placing both hands on either side of Dean and leaning close enough to enjoy the faint scent of soap and motor oil.

 

“Yes, Dean?”

 

Dean shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut.

 

“C’mon, man.” Castiel smiled at the edge of desperation in Dean’s voice. A light sheen of sweat had started over Dean’s back, making every tense movement shine in the morning light. The way Castiel was positioned, that fake cock could have been his. Maybe that’s what the sub was imagining as he pushed in deeply and Castiel heard the hitch of his breath.  

 

“What is it?” Castiel asked. “Tell me.”

 

“Cas…” Dean groaned. “Need you.”

 

“Do you?” Castiel asked, almost amused. “I’m not convinced.”

 

Dean’s mouth dropped open more, his eyebrows quirking in frustration. 

 

“Widen your legs.” Castiel leaned back, leaving Dean by himself on the bed again. Dean’s head dropped between his shoulders at Castiel’s retreat, his shoulders tensing. But he obeyed and inched his knees out more.

 

“That’s what I like to see,” Castiel approved. “Spread wide for me, Dean. Show me how well you can take it.”

 

Dean groaned.

 

“Thought you weren’t into humiliation.” He stared resolutely at the bedcover, grimacing.

 

Castiel carefully circled the bed until he could climb up near Dean’s head. The sub immediately stopped fucking himself, his head lifting with hopeful eyes to watch Castiel kneel mere inches from him.

 

“Is this humiliating for you?” Castiel asked softly. 

 

Dean’s eyes flicked back to the comforter.

 

“I’m not trying to humiliate you, Dean.” Castiel reached for Dean’s cheek and soothed him with a hand against his skin. “But I would appreciate if you did what I asked of you.” He guided Dean’s head down onto his lap, his hand settling on the back of his neck. “Don’t stop again unless I say so.”

 

Dean winced at the command, but immediately his hand started back up, plunging the dildo in and shakily drawing it back out. Castiel watched in silence for a few moments, threading fingers through Dean’s short hair to comfort him. The way Dean would shudder as he pressed the dildo in…

 

“I think you can take it deeper.”

 

Dean twitched in his lap, his back tightening. He plunged the dildo in with more force. He did manage to push it farther, but not far enough.

 

“You can do better,” Castiel told him, his hand stilling on Dean’s head.

 

Dean shuddered and once more pushed the dildo in, almost down to the fake balls.

 

“That’s my boy,” Castiel purred, running a hand along his upper arms, feeling the tightening muscle. Dean gripped at his pant leg with his free hand, so tentative and gentle Castiel first didn’t notice it.

 

“ _Cas_.” Dean panted, his forehead sweaty on Castiel’s pant leg.

 

Castiel smiled.

 

“Harder, Dean. I want to see you come,” Castiel encouraged him. _When_ he would let Dean come, he kept to himself.

 

Dean groaned in what was probably frustration, but he followed Castiel’s order. Every thrust rocked his body towards Castiel’s, and Castiel was pleased to see he didn’t let up any on the power or depth of his movements.

 

Castiel prided himself on his self-control, but one particular sound of Dean’s, a sort of huff that sounded both helpless and _needy,_ and Castiel decided they were done.

 

“Up,” he commanded softly, lifting Dean’s face off his lap. Dean’s eyes were dazed, his brow furrowed as his mouth twisted down in what could be interpreted as pain if Castiel didn’t know better.

 

 _“Back,”_ until Dean was hovering on his knees as though he would tip one way or the other at the slightest breeze. He watched with hooded eyes as Castiel rose up on his knees too. He reached one hand out to stroke Dean’s length. Dean jumped at the feel, and his eyes fluttered shut as Castiel finished one stroke, a soft moan escaping Dean’s lips.

 

“You’re ready for release?” Castiel pumped him fast and hard. Dean’s body rocked with the force of Castiel’s hand on his dick, and he looked like he was lost in the sensation, subtle expressions flitting through from one moment to the next.

 

Castiel couldn’t believe a person could be such art. _Perfect. This man is_ perfect _._

He waited until Dean lurched forward, his nose scrunching up as his mouth opened in a silent “oh” to cease his motions completely. Dean gripped his shoulder, his head snapping up.

 

“Don’t stop!” he demanded angrily.

 

Castiel arched an eyebrow, cooling his expression. The transformation that came over Dean in response was startling; his emotions locked behind a smooth façade of calm. He was sweaty and shaking with feeling, but his face was suddenly the picture of patience.

 

“This is punishment, Dean. Remember?” Castiel reminded him, pushing him back up on his own and carefully returning his hand to play with the head of Dean’s cock. “You come when I let you come. Understood?”

 

Dean seemed to struggle with himself before he nodded.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Sir,” Castiel growled.

 

“Yes, sir,” Dean corrected himself, the muscle at the side of his jaw clenching as he did. Castiel would never tire of that; Dean obviously bowed to no one else, could barely stand the idea, but when Castiel pushed for it Dean let up without struggle. Castiel cherished the privilege.

 

“Good.” Castiel traced a thumb over Dean’s plush lips. _So pretty, like a girl_. He’d never seen lips like that on a man before. He’d also never seen them wrapped around his cock. That needed to change immediately. “Here’s how I’ll let you come.” Castiel pushed his thumb in, and Dean’s lips parted easily for him. The sub’s eyes widened before they settled into a wary, hooded gaze. He opened more for Castiel as he pushed all the way to the back of Dean’s tongue, then stroked the pad of his finger down the muscle on his way out. “Back on all fours. I’m going to fuck you while you fuck yourself. You’re not allowed to touch anything but that dildo.”

Dean swallowed hard, his lips still wrapped around Castiel’s finger. He slipped away to shake his head.

 

“Cas, I _can’t_ do that.”

 

“You _haven’t_ before. You can do more than you realize.”

 

Dean’s eyes were doubtful, but Castiel made it clear the conversation was over by wrapping a hand around Dean’s neck and directing him back onto his hands and knees. He quickly detoured to pour more lube on the dildo, make sure it was nice and slippery so Dean could just focus on enjoying it. A tremor ripped through Dean’s whole body when Castiel pulled the dildo out to lather the lube over the silicone before pushing it back in. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of Dean stretched around the thick cock, his ass pushed out like it was on display for him.

 

Dean opened his mouth and closed his eyes as Castiel moved to put himself in front of him, and Castiel _loved_ that. Dean was just _eager_ to please him. Castiel fingered his mouth while Dean reached a shaky hand back behind himself to grab the dildo still buried in his ass.

 

Dean moaned as Castiel slipped his whole length into his mouth, pushing just enough that Dean would feel the stretch of his lips around the base of his cock, feel him in the back of his throat. He watched Dean’s movements and timed his thrusting with Dean’s; when the sub slowed, so did he. When he sped up, Castiel rammed his mouth.

 

Together they built to a frenzied pace. Dean was groaning and grunting around his cock, and Castiel was almost lost to the immense pleasure that was Dean’s tongue along the underside of his cock but he kept himself together enough to keep pace with Dean. He let the sub direct him.

 

“You’re going to come, aren’t you?” Castiel asked, fisting a hand in the back of Dean’s head, just catching the short hairs. “I knew you could. Doing so well, Dean.”

 

Dean shuddered and groaned again.

 

“Come with me, Dean.”

 

What could have been a sob was cut off by Castiel’s thrust deep in his throat. Castiel didn’t need to hear it clearly to know how frustrated Dean was, though – his hand was working furiously to pump into himself, his hips were pushing back on each thrust even as his forearms shook from the strain of nearing orgasm yet being unable to attain it.

 

Castiel had an idea of what might push him over, though.

 

“You know who’s really fucking you.” Castiel panted, leaning over to run a hand along Dean’s gorgeous shoulders. “You know it’s me in your mouth, but that’s my cock in your ass, too. I want you to come on me, Dean. Come and tighten around me. Pull my orgasm out with yours.”

 

Dean shuddered again and Castiel saw the line of his back go taught. His arms locked up.

 

It was enough for Castiel to spill down the sub’s throat.


End file.
